Red For Hearts, Red For Roses
by persephinae
Summary: It's been a pouring deluge for a few days now, so Warden Amell & Alistair pool their money to stay at an Inn to rest and wait out the storm.
1. Chapter 1

She was absently fidgeting with her braids again as she stared out at the rain. Rowan sat as close as possible to the window and watched the rain fall against the window. It was so Maker-forsaken wet and soggy outside that Alistair and Rowan cobbled together some money to stay at an Inn. Morrigan had sneered at their soft weak will and said she would remain near their camp. In what form she didn't say, but it was implied that she would merely take a form more suited for the weather, and more importantly, away from people.

Rowan looked up from her thoughts in startlement at a particularly loud thunderclap and watched as lightning streaked across the clouds. She sighed deeply and cupped the side of her face in boredom. Her lips, usually quirked in a teasing smile, were now pouting and Alistair secretly found himself thinking she was adorable when she pouted. Maker preserve him if she ever pouted at him. He most likely would wind up giving her whatever she wanted.

"I think I might have some playing cards in my pack. We could play Castle Siege, if you'd like? Or Wicked Grace?" Alistair chuckled for a moment. "Although ah... not for penalties... as I've heard some people do." He looked back at Rowan to see her reaction, but only saw her pout intensify. _Please stop doing that_ , he thought. _**It does things to me**_ _._

But for some reason, it felt right being with her, talking to her, learning about her. Sometimes he daydreamed what it would be like to know all about her, maybe having grown up with her in the same village and just having her in his life. More and more his thoughts would bend towards her and wondering about her.

Rowan let the weight of her head fall on her shoulder in utter boredom and took one of her braids between her pouting lips and adorable nose and made a mustache. Alistair loved that she had this unspoiled playfulness that she somehow still retained. She mostly only let her guard down this much around him. Rowan gave 100% to her new life and duties as a Grey Warden, but she didn't let that define her. She was still very much who she was at Kinloch Hold, and Alistair loved seeing new facets and snippets of memories of her time there. Maybe her could ask her about it tonight since they were mostly trapped with each other.

Rowan sighed in resignation and gave Alistair an answer after thinking about it. "I suppose we could play Castle Siege. Did you want me to cut the cards? Which color would you like?" She rested her arms on the table and leaned toward him as he reached down towards his backpack. Alistair liked that she perked up a bit. And playing cards was a perfect way to get her to open up more and talk with him.

He loved her voice and was always trying to make her speak more. Rowan was always watching and gauging the world before she spoke, and sometimes Alistair spoke too much just to draw her into conversation. He knew he sometimes sounded like a fool blathering on all the time, but it was worth it to see her smile or laugh or just talk to him. She had a very sweet voice that he loved listening to. She could probably recite the entire history of magic or Thedas, and while he would probably fall asleep, he would fall asleep with a smile on his face because it was _her_ voice. He also loved when people spoke to her for the first time because her voice contrasted and played havoc with people's expectations of what a Grey Warden was supposed to be.

When Alistair was brutally honest with himself, he felt sorrow that such a sweet, studious woman like Rowan had been forced to join such a grim, militaristic fellowship. She belonged somewhere safe, pouring over books or tending to her garden, with someone who treasured every moment with her. Not facing darkspawn, demons, and bandits. Sometimes he felt bad for feeling so lucky that she became a Warden.

Alistair felt himself smiling at her. "My dear lady, I shall cut the cards since it was my suggestion and I offer you first choice." Rowan flashed a small smile in response and he suddenly felt his heart speed up and lose a beat. He blinked at what just happened and tried to concentrate on shuffling and cutting the cards. Maker, he didn't want her to think he was some bumblebrain who couldn't even shuffle cards. He calmed himself and gave the cards his utmost attention, even added a few dramatic arches in his shuffle, then began to deal the cards.

Rowan had her chin in her hands as she watched the cards being dealt. The firelight and sconces cast her face in light and shadows, and he could see the faint purple smudges of exhaustion under her eyes from the weeks of traveling and fighting ghastly spiders or bandits. As much as Alistair would love to stay up as long as possible to talk to her and distract her, he decided that it would be best to play only one game and have her get some sleep.

"You're not falling asleep on me, my lady, are you? You've been very quiet this evening." _Please talk to me_ , he thought. "Also, please declare your color." He quickly glanced at his cards, checking to see what suits he had and arranging them in order.

Alistair heard the small smile in her voice as she answered. "No. Not falling asleep yet. Just very bored. If you had asked me last year if I would be bored outside of the Circle's walls and seeing rain in wide open spaces, well.. I would have looked at you in disbelief." She sighed, quickly glanced out the window at the dark deluge and then back to her cards, arranging them as well. "Perhaps if it wasn't pouring so hard and wasn't so muddy."

Smiling to herself, she added almost to herself, "I always pictured a warm, gentle rain in a beautiful meadow full of flowers, with the sun playing Hide-And-Seek behind the clouds and giving everything a golden glow. And perhaps a nearby cottage with a veranda to run to, and a table set for a summer luncheon. With good company to while away the golden afternoon, or good books to get lost in."

Rowan's voice sounded tired as she absently played with the card edges against her lip and talked about her daydreams. It sounded truly wonderful to Alistair. He could almost see it, see her there in a golden summer afternoon, delighting in the brief reprieve from the summer heat with a gentle rain. He could pictured her lifting her arms up in delight and smiling as she reveled in that moment. And now he wished that for her with all his heart. And he wished he could also share in that alternate never-moment. He wished there was a world where Rowan had a normal life with that perfect moment.

She sighed and brought her attention back to her cards. "Let's get this started. I shall play the Red." Rowan looked over her cards one last time and in soft, sing song voice, added, "Red for the Wyvern Kings. Red for hearts. Red for roses. Red for my name.." She looked up at Alistair and placed the first card down, smiled, and added, "And red for my hair."

Alistair looked down at her card and saw that she had just declared war with the highest card she could use, The Wyvern King. She had come out with staves blazing so to speak. He smiled in anticipation. _This was going to be fun._


	2. Chapter 2

"Awwww... COME ON! That Black Wyvern card should have totally counted! Why are you being mean to me?" Alistair pouted and drummed his fingers on the table. Who knew Rowan was a card shark that could shake people down and take all their money? It was that face and voice, that's what. They lured you in with sweet wholesomeness, made you contemplate her pouting lips and wonderfully expressive turquoise eyes, and then metaphorically mugged you.

 _Hmmm... well... maybe if they were ever short on gold... that could be a useful bit of information...,_ he thought. He scratched that thought two seconds later though after thinking possible negative outcomes. He would rather not have Rowan be subject to seedy card cheats and possible knife fights if he could help it. Who knows where those people have been? Who knows how dirty those knives were? Ughh..

Rowan laughed at his pouting and losing position. "Normally, yes. It would. HOWEVER, you failed to notice the Red Queen affixed to my Three of Swords. My goodness, I had to really bite my tongue when you hesitated playing your Black Wyvern. So glad you did by the way. Thanks for the winnings!" She smiled and pulled her winnings of 3 coppers, pocket lint, a piece of wire, and a hastily scribbled IOU towards her side of the table.

She giggled at her winnings. "My, my... what a treasure trove! And behold this wonderous piece of luck!" She fanned herself with the IOU. "What a girl couldn't do with one of these!" She laughed wickedly as she smiled winsomely at Alistair, which promptly made him lose his train of thought.

Honestly, it wasn't fair. Any of it. Why can't she be this affected too? Why was he losing his mind if she smiled at him? _Oh... uh oh..._ Alistair thought. _Wait just one moment... Do I... like her more than a friend? Oh Maker. Aarrghhh... I can't deal with this right now. Please, Maker, Sweet Andraste beyond, can I just finish this game without embarrassing myself?_ _ **That would be great.**_

He cleared his throught and hesitantly asked, "You're not taking this seriously? Are you? I thought this was for fun?" Alistair laughed nervously.

Rowan smirked at him and let his imagination twist him in knots for a moment, but relented because he looked so worried. "Oh relax. I'm not going to do anything bad. Ha! Me.. do something bad... Old Livinia would rise from her grave and chase me with a ruler to bash my knuckles." She bit her lip at the silly thought and watched Alistair let out a worried breath as he relaxed.

She added, "I'll just save it for when Barkspawn needs to be bathed. Which will probably be when the rain lets up." Alistair's face became a picture of mild disgust and horror at the future chore. Rowan bit back her grin and poured some salt on the wound. "I mean, I'm very grateful that the inn owners had a barn where Barkspawn could be tied up and kept dry out of the rain, but I can only imagine the smell. Horses smelling like sweaty horses.. doing their business... stalls needing mucked out... Barkspawn either smelling like a sweaty dog that stayed in a barn, or finding something disgusting to roll around in.."

"You're an evil, devious woman. Ugh... I cannot believe I got suckered. And now I have this disgusting chore hanging over my head that I am bound to fulfill." Alistair groaned and threw his arms across the table as he laid his head in defeat upon his cards. "Have mercy upon my poor soul, my Lady. I am but an innocent man caught up in the machinations of an evil, red-headed temptress who plots terrible gaeses upon the unwary." He gave a quiet, theatrical sob into the table.

Rowan reached forward and gently patted him sympathtically on the shoulder. "There, there, kind Ser. I did _ask_ Barkspawn to behave. Mabari are very intelligent, as well you know. And he likes me very much. Mayhaps you will find him just smelling of dog and hay. It could happen."

Alistair looked up from his overplayed, but slightly real, despair with faint hope in his eyes. But it was dashed when she added, "Although... he did bark at you earlier when you were perceived as being mean to me, teasing me with the remains of that spider we slayed. I'm sure Barkspawn completely understood, as you chased me around the road with that hairy leg and had me screaming in horror." Alistair let his head plonk back face first into the table.

Rowan smiled and added to his misery. "Or... maybe he's plotting his revenge even as we speak." He groaned into the table again. It was worth it though. And hilarious. Alistair had chased her around the road with that huge hairy spider leg and laughed until he cried at her antics to get away. Even when she had used a spell to literally freeze him in his tracks. Still he laughed, unafraid at the possibility of getting hurt by a mage. It was Rowan. Besides, he couldn't remember the last time he had laughed so hard. Probably when he had just joined the Templars and had made friends for the first time. This was better, though.

He looked up at her face when she quietly thanked him. "By the way, thank you, Alistair. I had a lot of fun." She smiled down at him and Alistair gave a small, soft smile in return.

"You're welcome, Rowan." He replied, his voice low and lazy, almost bashful. _But that couldn't be_ , thought Rowan. She stifled a shiver at his low voice. It drove her to distraction and sinful thoughts when he spoke thus. Luckily for her it was few and far between. She blushed at his low voice calling her by name. She was very thankful it was dark now, so the shadows mostly hid her blush.

It was only recently that he started calling her by name. She tried to remember the exact moment he did so. _Not for any specific reason_ , she told herself, _just because it was a moment of change is all_.

For most of their initial time together, he called her "my Lady" or "Lady Amell". He had been very sweet with his manners and politeness. Sometimes at night she'd girlishly sigh over the thought of a knight (well, ex-Templar) being so courteous and chivalrous with someone like her.

She thought back to when it changed, and thought it might be when those bandits ambushed them as they were still fighting off those starving wolves. Rowan had just erected an ice wall to keep the wolves from them and required her concentration, when suddenly Alistair whipped around with his sword drawn at something behind her, shouting her name in worry. She let the ice wall fall, and switched to a chained lightning spell to catch all their attackers in one blow. Alistair ferociously kicked a wolf from her while she was casting her spells, and defended her if anyone or anything got too close. He knew not to distract her or get in the way of her magics, thank goodness.

Morrigan had just finished off the wolves and joined them to help finish off the bandits. Since Morrigan liked Rowan slightly more than Alistair, she had taken point on the magical attacks, while Rowan reverted to shields and healing. Morrigan was efficiently elegant as she coldly cast her spells upon the remaining bandits. Some had died screaming in agonizing fright at the sight of her smiling sinisterly while she called down spellfires and demon spiders to consume their flesh.

When it was done, Morrigan barely spared a glance towards Alistair, but made sure that Rowan was unhurt. She then cast a cooling spell upon the dessicated bodies, in case any were still burning, and proceeded to go through the bandits pockets for loose change or any signs of intent beyond robbery. Morrigan had then tossed the coins to Alistair as she had no use for them, and asked Rowan to help herself to the unexpected loot after pocketing a few rings and baubles for herself. When the bandits were picked clean of anything useful, Morrigan simply left without a backward glance. Parting only with a command directed at Alistair, "Be sure to dispose of the bodies properly. We would not want scavengers or disease to trouble anyone nearby. I shall await you both at camp."

Alistair had wiped the sweat from his brow and succeeded only in smearing the dirt, sweat, and blood stains across it. He lowered his blade and made sure to clean it before sheathing it behind him. He then turned towards Rowan and made to grab her arm in worry, but realizing his place and how dirty and bloody he was, he recalled his hand and asked her if she was unhurt. "Are you alright, Rowan? Did they hurt you? I don't trust Morrigan, I need to know you're unhurt." His brow had been furrowed in distress. Rowan remembered staring stupidly at his worry, her mouth hung open in puzzlement. He had called her by name. And was worried for her. Personally worried, not just out of fellowship for a fellow Grey Warden.

When she didn't answer fast enough, he did grab her arm, gently, but urgently, to pull her away from the bodies, thinking maybe it was the carnage that was upsetting her. She had felt the warmth from his hand right through her sleeve. She remembered thinking it was nice.

When she got her wits back from her bemused stupor, she had answered, "I'm fine, Alistair. I'm not hurt." She then fibbed slightly and told him that the effects of battle had just caught up to her and had made her a bit weary. Maker, she did not want him to know that he was the reason for her staring with her mouth open. She had thanked him for his kind concern, and apologized for making him worry.

Alistair had nodded at her words, acknowledged them, then gently, but firmly sat her down on a nearby boulder and asked her to rest for a moment while he tidied up. As if he were merely cleaning up after dinner.

Rowan had immediately leapt up in indignation. "I'm fine, Alistair! I'm fine! I'll help you dispose of them! I'm not an invalid. I'm completely fine! You'll need me anyway once you're done lugging them, so I can use my fire spells!"

Alistair had sighed, rolled his shoulders to work out some tenseness, and replied, "Please, Rowan. Just sit for a moment and rest." He rushed to talk over her when she objected again. "Ijustdon'twantyoutouchingthem!"

"I beg your pardon?"

Softly, but urgently, he told her, "Please. I can move them by myself. I just don't want you touching them." He gently pushed her to sit again, and knelt before her. "Please humor me. I know it's silly and I know you can help, but please let me move them. Afterwards, I'll have you burn them. Although I detest that I would use your talents in such a way." Absently, without thought, he took her hands in his own large, rough and scarred hands. "Your hands were made for finer things. For healing and light. Not this evil world..."

Rowan's breath had left her and her mouth formed a silent "oh".

Alistair then shot up and stood a pace away from her, his ears a burning red from blushing, but he had stood resolute and stubbornly firm before her while he awaited her reply.

Rowan had smiled slightly, in spite of herself, and folder her hands upon her lap, being sure to sit very regal and ladylike for her concerned (ex) knight. "Very well. If that is what you wish, and you are _**sure**_ you can do this by yourself, I'll wait here for you."

Alistair stuck out his jaw in stubborn pride, nodded his thanks, and had promptly turned on his heel to stride back towards the dead bandits and wolves. If they had time and were a little more desperate, they could have salvaged the wolves for meat. But their supplies were in good order and that was a very messy business, so he had piled them with the bandits.

It had been nice actually to watch Alistair work. The Maker had smiled upon him and granted that man muscles to make any female swoon. Come to think of it, that was probably when she started thinking him as a capable man, and not the jesting, boyish Warden who automatically deferred to others with hard decisions. Oh, was still silly and jesting, always trying to make her smile, but underneath that she now knew he had a brain and he used it frequently. While she was quiet and studied people from the sidelines, he was the type to be in the thick of life and gauging others while people consistently underestimated him. He could be serious, but he just deflected a lot with humor.

Inwardly, Rowan sighed at his charm. He was very handsome, that was very apparent to anyone, but that could easily be dismissed. Alistair had charmed her with his good humored nature and his inate kindness. He used his people skills to make others smile and laugh, to take their worries away, if only for a moment. He would rather other people be happy and unafraid, and if people underestimated him or thought less of him for that, then so be it. Rowan found herself liking him for his kindness, and she daydreamed about his voice far more than she would care to admit. Oh, she'd just die of embarrassment if anyone knew how much she daydreamed about impossible, silly things.

Rowan now looked down upon his prostrate form, still dramatically limp with future despair, and poked him. With a small smile at his silliness, she ordered him, "Alright, silly. Time to get up from the table. I'm sure it hasn't been cleaned in a while."

Alistair rolled his eyes, but complied. He stretched his arms over his head, leather and armor shifting and creaking as he moved. She inwardly sighed at the sight. She loved his arms. Maker, the man had nice arms. She stopped herself from envisioning what his torso looked like. She bit her lip to stem the thoughts.

Alistair looked around and saw that the common room was still empty. "Are you hungry, Rowan? I know I am. Losing such a grueling battle of wits makes a man hungry! I could see if the innmaster is still around or if he left us some dinner in the kitchen." He turned back toward her for her response, but her stomach chose that moment to growl. He laughed. "Well that answers that. I shall return shortly." He stretched his long legs over the bench.

Rowan crossed her arms. "I swear! I didn't use to be such a slave to hunger when I was back at the Circle! I could go almost a whole day sometimes and just be happy with an apple or a small hunk of fresh bread. Ughhh... stupid Warden hunger.."

 _ **And she was pouting again.**_ Maker help him. He just wanted to lean over and kiss her pout away. Sweet Andraste he had it bad. _Well first things first,_ he thought. _Let me take care of something that I know has an easy resolution._ Alistair smiled as he walked towards the kitchens. He liked the idea of taking care of her. It made him feel warm and happy.


	3. Chapter 3

Alistair came back a little while later, laden with two trays of food and thumbs hitched around mug handles. He walked slowly and carefully towards their table, tongue sticking out in concentration, while focusing on not spilling either the food nor their drinks. He then stood there while calculating how to put everything down with minimal spilling or breakage, and somehow managed to do so, but he noticed that Rowan had laid her head down upon her arms. He took that moment to look upon her without penalty or judgement.

Her dark red hair fell carelessly over her arms, with one of her braids laying upon her soft cheek. He had an urge to gently place it behind her ear and away from her face. He yearned to touch the softness of her cheek and hair, to touch those wondefully beckoning lips of hers. Inwardly, he sighed at her and these new feelings. It had happened so slowly, that he didn't even realize it. Fate had placed this wonderful, beautiful woman in his path and he was lucky, so damn lucky, to be friends with her. Now his heart beat for something more.

Alistair wanted to get this right, and knew he had to really think about this, and all the implications and outcomes. He didn't want to lose her in _any_ capacity. She was his friend. Possibly his best friend. That was rare and wonderous in and of itself. Maker, he was so lucky to just have her here in his life. All these new feelings churned in his heart and his gut. He didn't know where one feeling started and where it ended. He never expected this. Not at all. Not ever. And while he was much happier than when he was a Templar, and MUCH, much happier than when he was a child at Redcliffe, he was still a Grey Warden. There were darkspawn and monsters out there, and now this bedamned Blight. As much as he was happy she was near him, he wished with all his heart that she could escape all this. She was meant for better things.

She was like a rose blooming in some forgotten, dying garden. A single force of beauty and light amidst all the darkness. It made him want to be selfish. He yearned to pluck this beauteous rose and keep it close to him. He reached out his hand, recalled it and made a fist trying to contain this yearning to touch her.

Alistair sighed, and tried to push his feelings aside. She was still hungry, and he should wake her to get her to eat something before bed. She was more important than these newfound feelings. He walked around the table to stand next her, and knelt down to her face. He wanted this one moment of selfishness and wanted to watch her face as she woke. He didn't dare touch her cheek like he wanted, but he did gently push at her shoulder to wake her. "Rowan. Rowan. It's time to wake for a bit. You must eat."

Her shoulder was so small and slight compared to his. He was lucky she wasn't wearing one of those mage robes with the feathered pauldrons. He didn't mind them, but at least with this simple robe he could actually feel her shoulder beneath the cloth and at least have that small satisfaction.

Rowan mumbled and slowly opened her eyes at his voice and prodding. Her long lashes blinking rapidly over her gorgeous, now sleepy, turquoise eyes. Maker's breath, she had gorgeous eyes. Sometimes, when he was feeling fanciful, he liked to think it was because of her being born a mage that gave her such eyes.

"Alistair? I'm sorry, I didn't mean to fall asleep at the table." She yawned and blinked again, just registering that he was next to her, waking her.

Rowan blushed, prettily in Alistair's opinion, and sat up. "Oh!" was all she managed to say as she was taken over by another yawn, and stretched for good measure, almost punching Alistair. He merely smiled as he quickly moved out of the way.

"Oh! I'm so sorry!" She blushed again as he gently pushed her stretched hand back towards her.

Alistair chuckled at her expression. "Fear not! Your mighty blow missed! This handsome visage has been spared."

"I change my mind. I'm sorry I missed." Rowan looked past him towards the window and noticed it was pitch black. "Oh! How long was I asleep?"

She turned back towards Alistair and tilted her head slightly. "Did you find some food? Was the innkeeper in the kitchens?"

Alistair rose from his kneeling and mock chucked her under the chin. He was rewarded with another blush. _This could be fun_ , he thought. "Fear not, my Lady. Your indomitable knight was able to procure our supper." He brought the food trays over to their table, placing hers first, then placed her drink in front of her. She blushed and bit her lip as he called himself _her_ knight. He could get to like this.

"The innkeeper trusts us as Grey Wardens, and because I'm charming. He left us food in the oven's warming shelf for dinner, and some non-perishable food for breakfast if we get up early. Very nice fellow, to be honest. He simply could not believe that such a beautiful young lady such as yourself was a Grey Warden as well. Poor man bent over backwards to provide for ' _the poor wee gel_ ' who's didn't deserve such an unkind fate. I thanked him but reminded him that she was with _**me**_ , so it couldn't be as bad as all that." Alistair scoffed at the last part as he set up his own tray.

He chanced to look over at Rowan and saw she had paused eating and put her spoon down. Her gaze had turned inward and melancholy at the reminder of her unkind fate. Alistair mentally cursed himself for putting his foot in his mouth. Here he was running his mouth unthinkingly, and always thinking about how lucky _**he**_ was, when he must learn to remember it wasn't the same for her. He thought of making a joke about it, but his heart wasn't in it. She was too important to take lightly.

"Ah.. I'm sorry Rowan. I didn't mean to bring up anything painful. I was unthinking and I should be more mindful that while I consider myself very lucky to have met you, fate was less than kind to you. I'm sorry. Please don't let me ruin your supper. You need to eat."

Rowan returned from her unpleasant thoughts at that reminder and looked at Alistair as he apologized. He looked so heartbroken that he might have hurt her feelings. Rowan's own heart melted a bit. He was so kind. He always tries to be better, always tries to learn from his mistakes. One could forget that if one only paid attention to his lighthearted flippancy and mistakes. But he did learn, and he had a kind heart.

Rowan slowly smiled at Alistair's heartfelt concern. "You think yourself lucky, do you?"

It was Alistair's turn to blush, but he felt it was too important to deflect. He nodded seriously. "I do. I'm very lucky. Very, very lucky. I'm sorry you were conscripted against your will. I know that despite being locked away at Kinloch Hold for being a mage, you honestly enjoyed learning. I know from our conversations and from Duncan that you were highly regarded there, and excelled at your studies. I'm sorry you were taken away from that. I'm sorry that you now face uncertainty, hunger, darkspawn, bandits, and spiders"

Rowan smiled at that last part. He breathed a relieved sigh and continued. It was important that she know. Even if it was a small fraction of his list of why she was wonderful. "I think you're smart, capable, incredibly kind, funny, and you make this journey lighter for being here with me. You give me hope."

Rowan's mouth formed a silent "Oh.." at that and her gaze softened towards him.

Alistair stubbornly set his jaw and plowed on. She must know, despite any embarrassment on his part. "I see you bend your mind to what must be done, and no matter the hardships you keep going forward. You know what must be done and you try your best to do it. You have a _tremendous_ will. I would have never have guessed that when I first met you, but I suppose it makes sense. As a mage you _**must**_ have a strong will. You must have strong willpower in order to defeat demons and use your magic. You're wonderful and I'm a little in awe of you, to be honest."

Alistair looked down for a moment and softly added, "And I'm very lucky you're here. I'm lucky that you're on my side. That we're tackling all this together. I don't think I could have done half as well as you are. I'm very luck you're my friend."

He looked up when he finished and found she was crying. Tears were silently coursing down her face. Her face was red and blotchy from holding back her sobbing, and she got up to leave when she realized that she couldn't hold back any more. She needed to get to her room. He shouldn't be subjected to her tears and ugly crying, not when he's been so kind and understanding. Not after what he's done for her.

"I... I need to go to my room. I'm.. I'm sorry... I don't mean to.. ruin your supper." She tried to get the words out between her heaving held in sobs.

His eyes were wide at her naked pain. He quickly got hold of himself and leapt to his feet to get to her side. "Oh Rowan! I'm so sorry! Shhh! Now... Come here.."

She struggled to get away. She needed to get away. He was too kind. Too kind to be subjected to her selfish tears. She knew he faced harships too. She knew there were people who had much worse fates. Honestly. She tried not to think about her new life as a Grey Warden. She tried to be positive. She had tasks to do, and she bent her will to get them done. Just a small list of what needed to be done. One small foot in front of the other. Keep going forward. Don't think about it. She couldn't afford many tears. There were things more important than her selfishness and unhappiness. But Alistair's honesty and kindness undid her. He didn't deserve this unseemly display. And that made her want to run away and cry. Why didn't he understand that?

Alistair's grip was gentle, but firm, and he slowly and inexorably drew her closer. It was fortunate that he had taken off his heavy armor earlier and just had his leather underpadding on. At least it would soft and would dig into her skin. "Rowan, hush now. Come here. Can't you face me?"

Rowan had her face turned away and shook her head. Her face was all red and blotchy from her pent up sobs and she knew she desperately needed to blow her nose. She hated when she cried. She was never one of those pretty criers, with only pretty tears to show their sorrow. When she cried, her eyes puffed up, her nose became stuffed up and drippy, and her face became all red and blotchy. The curse of being a red-head with fair skin. Which was why she tried very hard to never cry. People always knew and it was a pain. It really was.

Alistair's heart hurt for her. Come to think of it, he had never seen her truly cry. Never once. In all their time together, and all the nights at camp, he never heard her crying. She smiled so much, he had begun to think she was just simply made of smiles and sunshine. It was a foolish thought. She hurt just as much as anyone. She was simply very good at hiding it apparently. Like him, he supposed.

Alistair gently turned her around to face him and lifted her chin. Her face was a mess, but he didn't really see that. All he saw was her hurting. "You know, I want to say 'Please don't cry', but you have every right to cry. And it's my fault. I'm sorry, Rowan. I'm here for you. If you need to cry, you can cry on me. I won't mind. Sometimes, we just want to be held as we cry. So just cry if you need to. It's ok. Just let go."

Her resolve broke and she let out a howl that she had been holding in so tightly. Tears welled up anew and he pulled her close against his chest. She clutched at his arms and shook as she let out wordless crying. It hurt him that she held this in so long. He wanted to cry for her.

"I'm s-sorry... s-o-rrry... I didn't want to cry.. I told myself not.. to cry.. I'm sorry.." She told him over and over in between her heaving sobs and wordless crying.

It was so hard for him to bear. It took all his strength to just stand there and hold her. It made him want to take on the whole damn world for hurting her. It was unfair. She didn't deserve any of this. And she held on for so long, trying so hard to be strong. She wasn't trained for extended journeys or killing people, she had studied books and quiet wonders in her tower. He wished the world was otherwise. He just held her and murmured quiet assurances over and over.

After what seemed like an unbearable eternity, but was probably only twenty minutes, she finally quieted into hiccups. She was so precious to him. And she didn't even know. His words earlier were only the tip of the iceburg. Words just didn't do his feelings justice. He admired her so much. Someday, he hoped she knew how much.

Rowan moved her hands to wipe angrily at her eyes. "I'm sorry, Alistair. I'm sorry. You didn't deserve that. I didn't want you to see me like that. It was selfish of me. You've faced harships too. I know this. I was feeling pitiable. I'll be fine. I won't let you down." She wouldn't face him, she was still hiding her face from him.

Alistair inwardly sighed and hoped she would soon trust him. "It's ok, Rowan. It's alright. My experiences don't invalidate yours. It's ok to feel sad. It's ok to cry. You'll never let me down, alright? Never." He lifted her chin again so she could see he was serious. "You don't have to hide anything from me, Rowan. You're important to me. I will never be disappointed in you."

Rowan blinked away her remaining tears and pressed her lips into a line, as if she was holding everything inside again.

"Maker's breath, woman. I tell you not to hold in your tears or feelings, and you still want to push them all down." He smiled lopsidedly down at her and wiped her cheek with his calloused thumb. "It'll be alright, Rowan. You'll see."

Rowan nodded, still pressing her lips, and sniffed. Alistair finally noticed what a mess her face was, and stood back a bit to look for his handkerchief. "I'm sorry, let me find you my handkerchief. The least I can do."

Rowan gave a small watery laugh at that. "Alistair, no offense, but I don't know if I want to use your handkerchief. It's probably crusty and unwashed."

Alistair looked up from his searching and smiled at her laugh. He didn't mind being the butt of her joke, she was smiling again and that's all that mattered. "You wound me. It's clean... ish..."

Rowan gave an inelegant snort at that, and dug in her hip sachel for her own. She wiped at her face, and _again_ , turned away from him to blow her nose. Loudly.

Alistair rolled his eyes at her turned back. She just cried all over him and she gets embarrassed about that. He walked back over to her, and gently dragged her back towards the table and sat her down.

"I'm fine now, Alistair. I can take care of myself. You don't have to pamper me."

Alistair strartled at the word "pampering" but that was what he was doing. And what he yearned to do, even more so than this. He wanted to lavish her with everything he could provide and make her life as easy as possible. He let out a breath at the thought. Maker, he had some serious thinking to do tonight and the next few days. About his feelings toward Rowan. About the future. He wished he had an elder friend or family he could talk to about everything. He thought he had that with Duncan... but he was gone now. All he had was Rowan now.

He blinked when she leaned forward to grasp his forearm. "Thank you, Alistair. Thank you for everything. You've been unfailingly kind to me. And very understanding. I'm sorry for putting you on the spot like that. Thank you."

She then surprised him, as she stood up then leaned forward to kiss him on his cheek. Blushing, she pushed him towards the table bench to sit. He bemusedly sat without a fuss, still reeling from her sweet kiss. While he sat there gathering what wits were left to him, she gathered up some of the food.

"You've done so much for me, Alistair. Let me see if I can warm up our food or cook up something new since our food has gone cold. It's the least I can do."

He blinked again and interjected, "Oh, please don't feel obligated. This is fine really. It still looks delicious. Really. It's much better than some of the food I've had on the road. Please don't put yourself to any trouble!"

He made to get up again, but it was her turn to gently push him down. "No, please, Alistair. Let me do this."

When he made to object again, she huffed a sigh and changed tactics. "Alright you caught me, I was half doing this for myself as well. The soup's gone cold as well as the meal."

She looked at him quietly pleading and making that pouty face of hers. So _**of course**_ , he gave in. He sighed. "Thank you, Rowan. I appreciate it." Damn that cute pouty face of hers.

She graced him with a wide smile and kissed his cheek again in gratitude. Then she left him some cheese and nibbles while she dashed to the kitchens with their meal.

He bemusedly touched his cheek where she kissed him after she left. Twice. Twice in one day. He felt he could swim the ocean or smash boulders with a single punch. Hunger won out though, and he devoured the food left to him while she warmed up their meals. He heaved a great sigh. He was the luckiest man in the world, no doubt.


End file.
